


very good cows

by labecc



Series: little Jon's memory book [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Anxiety, CGLRE, Caregiver Martin, Cuddling, Cuddling and Snuggling, Diapers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Little Jon, M/M, Pacifiers, Self-Indulgent, Wetting, and Jon is so easy to prOjecT oNtO, author hasnt seen her caregiver in foReVer, bottles, so very self indulgent, takes place during season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25612387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labecc/pseuds/labecc
Summary: Agere adventures in the archive, featuring needy archivist baby Jon.I noticed a severe lack of age regression fics in the fandom, so I decided to contribute!
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: little Jon's memory book [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879618
Comments: 17
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sexualize this and i'll break your kneecaps
> 
> jk I'm sure you're wonderful :D

Jon’s heart pounded as he peered through the crack in the door, quietly shuffling into a spot in which he thought that he could stay hidden, but still have a view of Martin. Jon nibbled his finger, the butterflies in his stomach flapping violently; despite the passing of at least three months, they still insisted on fluttering up into his chest whenever this type of situation came about. One strong bite to his pointer finger was enough of a distraction to propel his free hand into opening the door. 

They stared at each other for a moment, Jon processing the intense regret that sunk into his stomach, and Martin deciding how to react to the small and delicate look in Jon’s eyes.  
“Daddy?” He impulsively sputtered out, quickly moving his gaze to the floor.  
“Hey baby boy,” Martin responded quickly, eager to resolve the shame he saw in Jon’s whitening knuckles and weak posture.  
“Why don’t you come sit with Daddy?” He insisted, shifting backwards towards the wall that his makeshift bed (currently just a mattress and some blankets and pillows on the floor) was pushed against. Jon paced over and timidly sat down next to him.  
“It’s alright sweet boy, come here,” he said, wrapping an arm around Jon’s shoulders and maneuvering him onto his lap. He pressed a kiss onto Jon’s cheek before placing a hand on the back of his head, beginning to stroke his messy black locks. He could still feel how tight Jon’s muscles were, he could even feel him shaking a bit, and his concern was growing quickly; he’d never seen him quite this scared. Jon did get nervous sometimes, worried that Martin found his peculiar coping mechanism weird or annoying, but he always tried to quiet those insecurities to the best of his abilities. He decided to press a little bit.  
“Is there something wrong, sweetie?” Jon firmly gripped the fabric of Martin’s sweater.  
“Isn’t Daddy angry?” He mumbled. Martin’s eyebrows knotted in concern, until he realized what Jon must’ve been talking about.  
“Did you think I’d be angry because you stayed up working too late?” He inquired. Jon nodded against his shoulder. Martin’s embrace tightened.  
“Oh, sweetie; I’m not angry. Maybe a little worried, but I’m very glad that you came to me for support,” he reassured him, “You’re such a brave little boy for doing that; Daddy is very proud of you.”  
Martin could feel Jon cuddling into him as his muscles relaxed a bit, and Jon expressed his appreciation with a content nuzzle into his shoulder. 

Jon snaked the arm that was tucked into his chest up and around Martin’s shoulder, his hand ultimately resting against his own mouth. He hesitantly chewed on his thumb before giving a few experimental sucks.  
“Does my baby boy need his paci?” Martin suggested, starting to slip into the doting tone that he adopted whenever Jon was feeling little.  
“Daddy has to get up really quick, okay?” He explained. Jon slid off of him and curled up next to some blankets while Martin went to open one of the few boxes that were stacked near the mattress. That box in particular was precisely for this sort of occasion; all the basics plus a set of extra clothes. There was a diaper bag as well, which Martin moved onto the mattress. Jon could hear the clicking of a pacifier case opening and looked up at Martin expectantly. He stepped towards Jon and knelt down, popping the light blue pacifier into Jon’s mouth. He suckled on it happily.  
“Alright little one, how about we get you out of those uncomfy work clothes?” Martin suggested as he finished laying out a plush changing pad at the end of the bed. Jon scooted across the mattress, moving closer to his caregiver. Jon did his best at kicking off his shoes, but gave up when Martin chuckled and knelt down to take them off for him. Martin started unbuttoning his shirt next and gently pulled it off, then he moved on to Jon’s pants. 

He readily put his arms up when he saw Martin reaching for his onesie. The soft, light green fabric slid on perfectly. Jon was easily distracted by the pattern of little white and brown bunnies and yellow flowers that covered the fabric. Martin gazed softly at Jon, watching a small smile forming behind his pacifier. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on his little’s forehead.  
“Let’s get you changed, okay baby?” Martin said, repositioning himself next to the changing pad. Jon crawled on top, relishing in the feeling of the plush fabric. At first, he barely noticed when Martin pulled off his underwear, but once he did, he could feel shame start to bubble up from the pit of his stomach. He tried to distract himself by looking around the room, attempting to ignore the cold feeling of a baby wipe against his skin. Martin had just started rubbing in the baby oil when Jon whined; his face became hot with shame and his eyes shone with emerging tears. He felt even worse when he failed to understand why he was upset; they’d done this many times before, why did he have to dislike himself so much now?  
“Hey, hey, it’s okay honey, Daddy’s here,” Martin reminded him, “There’s no need to be ashamed, I’ve got you.”  
Jon felt a soft, familiar feeling against his cheek. He turned his head to find Martin offering him one of his favorite stuffies, a very fuzzy highland cow. Jon hugged the fluffy orange-brown toy close.  
“Would you like me to stop?” Martin asked gently. Jon shook his head.

Martin moves on to the baby powder, trying to finish quickly while still being gentle.  
“Can you lift your hips for me, sweetie?” Jon complies, hiding his face in his stuffie. Martin slides the diaper in place, and makes quick work of the tab strips. He snaps the buttons of Jon’s onesie closed, then wipes off his hands.  
“All done!” Martin says, leaning forward to place a kiss on Jon’s forehead.  
“Th-thank you- Dada,” he stutters. His face heats up again, and he takes the first opportunity he sees to crawl into the corner of the bed and hide. Martin starts putting everything away. 

Once all of the changing supplies are tucked back into their bag, Martin picks out a toy for Jon, as well as a bottle. Jon gets visibly excited when he sees the toy, slowly uncurling from the tight ball he previously curled into. It’s a teething ring with various little woodland creatures hanging from it; a frog rattle, a snail with a tiny mirror on its shell, and a bunny with crinkly ears. Jon can feel himself gradually letting go, falling deeper into little space as he joyfully shakes the rattle; that happy, fuzzy feeling blurring all of his stress and focusing on the toy that his daddy has just handed to him.  
“I’m going to go get some chocolate milk from the fridge in the break room, alright little one?” Martin says, checking for Jon’s permission. Jon nods and hums, currently occupied with his toys. Martin tries to hurry, not wanting to leave Jon alone in such a vulnerable head space for too long.

When Martin comes back, he finds Jon curled up around a blanket, aggressively cuddling his cow stuffie.  
“Someone looks like they’re ready for bedtime!” Martin exclaims, setting down the bottle of milk he was holding next to the mattress. Jon looks up as Martin kneels down next to him. He places a hand on the side of Jon’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. He leans in to kiss Jon’s forehead, then his temple, then he’s planting soft kisses across Jon’s face. His heart swells when he hears Jon giggle; it only makes him kiss and hug him harder, in the hopes that he could hear that happy and extremely rare sound for just a few more seconds.

Jon eventually turns away, hiding his face in a pillow. Martin chuckles, petting his grey-streaked hair.  
“My baby’s getting sleepy, huh?” Martin says. Jon nods into the pillow. He lazily turns back towards Martin, still clutching his cow stuffie in one arm, and sits up, reaching towards his Daddy.  
“Dada, cuddles,” he mumbles.  
“Just a moment, sweetie,” Martin replies, earning a whine from Jon. He reaches for the bottle he left next to the mattress, and maneuvers himself into the corner. Jon climbs into his lap at the first chance he sees, and Martin pulls a blanket over them both. Jon snuggles into his daddy, then rests his head against his chest. He nuzzles his cow stuffie, already feeling himself dozing off in his warm little cocoon. 

Jon feels his pacifier being tugged out of his mouth. He whines, opening his eyes to gaze upon the heathen that dared disrupt his peaceful descent into slumber.  
“Shhh, shhhhh…” Martin hushes him, pressing the nipple of the bottle against Jon’s lips. Jon starts gently sucking, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he slowly drinks the chocolatey liquid.  
“There you go baby,” Martin whispers. He gazes at Jon, eyes traveling over the contours of his face, from the slight beard covering his chin and jaw to the dark bags under his eyes. It’s like holding a porcelain doll, pristine and delicate, like one wrong move could break him into hundreds of little pieces. Martin’s heart swells with the trusting implications of this; all of Jon’s vulnerability placed carefully in his hands, having felt that he could trust him enough to protect him when he is most defenseless. 

Once Jon finished the bottle, Martin snapped the cap back on and put it next to the mattress to wash in the morning. Jon crawled off of Martin, who moved over and laid down, lifting up the blanket for Jon to join him. Jon curled up against him, nuzzling his head against his chest.  
“Nini Daddy.”  
“Sweet dreams, baby boy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> today on: the author expresses their little insecurities through everyone's favorite archive man!

Jon awoke to the sound of chimes; the noise was quickly cut off, helping Jon to realize that it must’ve been Martin’s alarm. It took him a moment to remember how much of a regressed state he was in, still in a diaper and onesie, hugging his cow stuffie, with a pacifier tucked in his mouth. It always felt off to wake up in a fresh, not regressed headspace but still surrounded by things that insisted that he should feel little.  
“Good morning baby,” Martin whispered hoarsely. Jon could already feel himself slipping back into line with his surroundings. He slowly stretched out, then immediately curled back up.  
“Daddy,” Jon replied, grabbing Martin’s shirt in a weak fist. His eyes closed as he held onto his caregiver.  
“I’d love to stay and cuddle but I have to get up, okay?” Martin insisted. Jon whined, in a surprisingly aggressive manner.  
“I know sweetie. But if you stay and be a good boy then I promise I will give you some cuddles and help you get ready for work. Is that alright?”  
“Mmm- but I don’t-” Jon stuttered, pausing to wrap his mouth around the words, “Don’t work.”  
“You have the day off today?” Martin asked. Jon nodded.  
“Well I guess I’ll just be giving you cuddles then!”  
Jon beamed, almost giggling. Martin kisses him on the forehead, then stands up to start getting dressed. Jon buries himself in blankets and dozes back to sleep.

It was a rude awakening. Jon sat up, feeling that the previously plush material of his diaper was now squishy, warm, and overwhelmingly uncomfortable. He frantically looked around for his caregiver, who was nowhere to be seen. His chin started quivering, his eyes filling with tears, and his pacifier falling out of his mouth as he started weeping.   
As if on cue, Martin came back into the archive storage room. He immediately heard his cries and rushed over to Jon, and with a surprising amount of strength, plucked him off of the mattress. Jon latched onto him, desperately wrapping his arms around his neck and shoulders, grabbing at his cardigan. Martin balanced Jon’s weight on his hip as he walked over to the one chair in the room. He sat down, and started gently rocking from side to side.  
“Shhhh, it’s okay, Daddy’s here now, it’s alright,” he whispered, rubbing Jon’s back. Jon clung onto his shoulders, crying into his neck.  
“Daddy’s got you, shhhh, it’s okay sweetheart,” Martin reassured him. 

More gentle reassurance and quiet hushing later, Jon finally calmed down a bit, now intensely sucking his thumb.   
“What happened, baby?” Martin asked. Jon mumbles incomprehensibly.  
“Was it a physical problem?” Jon nods.  
“Hungry?” He shakes his head.   
“Need to be changed?” He nodded.  
“Okay. We’re gonna get you all cleaned up, alright?” Jon nuzzles into Martin’s shoulder. 

Martin carries Jon over to the mattress and kneels down, carefully laying him back on the blankets. The diaper bag and changing pad are brought back out along with a clean onesie, and laid over the mattress. Martin notices a pastel blue pacifier, and returns it to Jon, along with his cow stuffie.

He’s laying on his back, stuffie in one arm, and other arm grabbing at a blanket. His thighs are spread apart, his knees bent nearly at a 90 degree angle. He almost reminded Martin of a frog, his green onesie helping to enhance the concept. Jon whined, quiet enough that Martin almost didn’t hear it. He leaned forward, scooping Jon back up onto his thighs and laying him back down on the changing pad. He unsnapped the crotch of his onesie, pushing it up Jon’s torso. He cooperated surprisingly easily, sitting up and letting go of his stuffie to wiggle out of the fabric.   
“Such a good boy!” Martin praises, pulling the new onesie over Jon’s head; this one is light yellow with orange trim, and covered with little kittens playing with yarn and cat toys. Jon flopped back down, pulling his cow back into his arms. He hugged it, squeezing his eyes closed as Martin pulled the used diaper off of him. He hears a plastic bag rustling. Fresh tears start welling in his eyes. His muscles tighten when he feels a cold baby wipe on his privates, cleaning his skin gently but thoroughly. Despite how gentle and caring Martin is, a whine of embarrassment crawls up Jon’s throat.   
“Hey, it’s okay baby, you’re doing a very good job,” Martin assures him. Jon’s always much more sensitive when he makes messes, and Martin plans to praise him as much as he can manage. He pours some baby oil onto his hand, then snaps the bottle closed and puts it away before spreading the oil across both hands. He starts rubbing it into Jon’s skin, glancing at his shining wet eyes.  
“You’re such a sweet baby,” Martin coos, “Daddy’s good little boy.”  
Martin finishes with the oil, and picks up a bottle of baby powder. He adjusts the cap, then sprinkles a fair amount on Jon’s skin. 

Once the powder is rubbed in, he positions a new diaper under Jon’s hips. He quickly secures the tabs and buttons up Jon’s onesie. He reaches for a wipe to clean up his hands.  
“Finished!” He declares, leaning forward to kiss the top of Jon’s head. Jon keeps his face hidden in his stuffie and shows no reaction to the affection. Martin frowns.  
“Jon? Are you okay in there?” He questions. Jon emerges just a bit, eyes still shining. Martin prepares for him to reach out, to want to be held. Instead, Jon just curls up and looks up at him.  
“‘M hungry Dada,” he mumbles. Martin smiles softly at him.  
“How does oatmeal sound?” He asks. Jon nods and sits up.  
“Alright,” Martin says. He pulls off the light brown cardigan he was wearing and drapes it around Jon’s shoulders.  
“I’ll be back in just a few minutes, okay baby?” Jon hums, sliding his arms into the cardigan sleeves. It hangs off of his lanky frame, engulfing him in the knit fabric. 

Jon crawls over to the boxes at the end of the bed and digs around in his clothes from the night before, his fingers wrapping around his phone and pulling it from his pants pocket. It’s almost 10 am. He puts the phone back on top of his clothes. He crawls into the corner of the mattress and pulls a blanket over himself, closing his eyes.

Jon feels someone stroking his cheek. He slowly opens his eyes, then recognizes the smell of oatmeal and brown sugar and sits up straight. Martin is smiling at him, and reaches to secure a bib around Jon’s neck. He leans forward in cooperation. Martin holds the handle of Jon’s pacifier, letting him loosen his jaw so he can remove it. Martin retrieves the bowl of oatmeal from next to the mattress.  
“Ready baby?” He says. Jon bounces a tiny bit in excitement, but stops himself soon after. Martin chuckles as he feeds him the first spoonful. 

Martin does his best to be encouraging, but knows that once Jon is done eating, he is going to swaddle him in a blanket and, hopefully, pull a reason for Jon’s apprehension out of him. 

The bowl slowly empties, and Martin starts executing his plan. Once Jon’s bib is removed and the dishes are put to the side, he returns Jon’s pacifier to him, sits down next to him, and pulls a blanket over himself, holding it open.  
“Do you want to come cuddle with Daddy?” He suggests. Jon looks at him, and the blanket, then crawls out of his own and into Martin’s lap. He squeezes his cow stuffie as Martin wraps him up in the plush fabric. Martin reaches towards the floor next to the mattress, picking up the toy that was left from last night. He offers it to Jon, who, very tentatively, takes it.   
Martin watches him feel the fabric; though he seems hesitant to shake the frog rattle or crinkle the bunny’s ears.  
“What’s going on, little one?” Martin presses gently. Jon shakes his head, “Nuffin,” he lisps.   
“Come on baby, Daddy can tell when you’re lying!” Martin chuckles. Jon hums nervously.  
“Mm- I’m-“ he stutters, letting go of his toy and grabbing at Martin’s shirt. Martin pets his hair patiently as Jon nuzzles into his shoulder.  
“‘M selfish,” Jon manages to whisper.   
“Why do you think that?” Martin asks.  
“Dada has to t-take care of me,” Jon tries to explain.   
“Oh, you sweet boy,” Martin squeezes Jon tight, “I don’t have to take care of you, I want to.” Jon looks up at him, eyes shining.   
“B-but why?” Martin stops for a moment, trying to find the right words.  
“Because you appreciate it when I take care of you. And you chose me to be the one that you can trust when you’re vulnerable; that means a lot.”  
Jon stares up at Martin, tears welling up in his eyes.  
“Love Dada,” he stutters, hiding his face in Martin’s chest.  
“I love you too, baby boy,” Martin kisses the top of Jon’s head, “I love you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one oops

Jon sat on the mattress, colored pencils scattered around him, as he meticulously colored in a squirrel. Cartoons played on Jon’s laptop, Martin having retrieved it from his office. Martin stood by the archive storage room door, mentally patting himself on the back for managing to pry Jon off of him and distract him enough to be able to return to work without causing a tantrum.   
“Text me if you need help. I’ll come check on you in about two hours, alright baby?”   
“Mhmm,” Jon confirmed. Martin opened and stepped through the door, shutting it behind him.

Jon didn’t notice the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway, but he did notice Tim’s voice following a knock on the other side of the door.  
“Martin?” Jon’s body tensed up. His eyes scanned his surroundings, trying to figure out how he could hide everything if Tim came in; he wouldn’t though, right? If there was no response he’d just forget it and keep looking around for Martin elsewhere.   
“Seriously, where did he-“ Tim swung the door open, eyes landing on Jon. They stared at each other, wide eyed, Tim’s gaze shifting from the pacifier, to the onesie, to the toys.  
“Jon? What’s going on?” Tim asked, trying to take in his boss in this wildly unfamiliar context. Jon could feel a dam breaking in his chest. He started bawling, pulling his legs to his torso. Martin’s voice echoed down the hallway, though Jon couldn’t hear it.  
“Tim!” Martin called, bursting through the doorway. He shuffled past him, rushing over to Jon. He threw a blanket around Jon’s shoulders.  
“Could you give us a minute? I promise I’ll explain later; just, please?” Martin stammered.  
“Uh, yeah; yeah, of course,” Tim answered quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Martin picked Jon up and into his arms, balancing his weight on his hip. Jon’s body shook in panic as Martin crossed the room and sat down; he gently bounced Jon on his thigh.   
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay-“ Jon leaned away from him, almost falling backwards.   
“Jon! Jon, careful sweetie, careful,” Martin said, steadying him against his chest. Jon continued sobbing, trying to push back away from Martin and out of the blanket he was wrapped in.  
“Hey, it's just Daddy, you’re safe.”  
“D-da-ddy ?” Jon bawled.  
“Yeah, Daddy’s here,” Martin repeated, “Daddy’s here.” Jon sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his shirt in tears. Martin held him tight, willing Jon’s shaking to stop, or at least lessen.  
“Shhh, try to breathe with me, okay?” Martin took a deep breath, and Jon did his best to follow, though it was shaky. He choked a bit the second time. After about a minute of this, Jon’s breathing was shaky, but consistent.   
“Good boy,” Martin cooed. Jon whined as he brought his thumb up to his mouth. He held onto Martin as he intensely sucked, and nuzzles his head into Martin’s neck.  
“Are Tim n’ Sasha gon’ hate me now?” He sniffled.  
“No, sweetie. I think they’ll understand once we explain,” Martin insists.  
“‘at’s scary.”  
“Don’t worry honey, I’ll be there to help you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering writing a few other fics for this AU, so I might make it a series. If anyone has ideas for archive agere shenanigans that I could write then pls comment them!  
> But for now this one is done! Pls enjoy lovelies :)

Martin walked with his arm around Jon’s blanketed shoulders. Jon hugged his cow stuffie as he pushed the blanket up, trying to hide the pastel blue pacifier that sat in his mouth. Martin guides him into his office. Jon waddles over to a small couch against the left wall and plops down, pulling his legs up against his chest. He lifts his cow up to his face, nuzzling into it’s fluffy fabric. Martin puts down Jon’s toy that he brought with him on the desk. Martin kisses the top of Jon’s head while gently holding his shoulders.  
“I’ll be back in just a minute,” he whispers. He walks through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

Jon jumps when he hears the door open again. Martin holds it open, letting Tim and Sasha in. Tim takes the desk chair, leaning forward on his elbows. Sasha sits on top of the desk, adjusting her glasses as she sits down. Jon concentrates on Martin, waiting for him to come sit down so Jon can have someone to hide in. Once Martin did, Jon scooted as close as he could to Martin and nudged his head into his shoulder.  
“Alright!” Martin exclaims, “I’m just going to to explain it to you straight away. What you, Tim just saw, is called age regression.”  
“I think I’ve heard of that, actually,” Sasha says, “I knew a girl in university who was a little.”  
“Oh, that will make this a bit easier then!” Martin said, a bit of relief in his voice. Tim just raises an eyebrow, clearly lost.  
“So, age regression is when someone reverts to a childlike state of mind, and enjoys doing childish activities as a coping mechanism. Being in that headspace, that age regressors usually call little space, can make their surroundings feel a lot simpler, and often safer, especially if they have someone they trust with them. Usually it’s a significant other who they could call their Mommy or Daddy, or just their caregiver. But it can also be close friends,” Martin explained, “So I’m Jon’s Daddy, and he’s my little.”  
Jon clutches Martin’s sweater, and Martin sets his hand on top of Jon’s fist.  
“It sometimes gets confused with age play, which is a sexual kink, but age regression is completely non-sexual. It’s just a safe headspace for people who are trying to cope with mental illnesses. Like depression, anxiety, OCD, or PTSD are some examples.”  
Sasha smiles supportively. Tim nods, squinting a bit.  
“What exactly do you guys do when Jon regresses?” Tim questions.  
“Just stuff that a parent would do with their kid. Play with toys, color, watch shows and movies. And I feed him, as well as give him bottles. And there’s a lot of cuddling,” Martin explains.  
“I think I understand,” Tim smiles softly, “So, like, is he usually this quiet when he’s regressed?”  
“Usually he’s pretty non-verbal, yeah.”  
“I could get used to that,” Tim smirked, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head.  
“Tim!” Sasha lightly slapped his arm.  
“I’m kidding!” He laughs, “I actually think it’s kind of interesting.” Tim said, shifting his gaze around the room, “Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to of course, but, is there a particular reason why Jon regresses and why you like taking care of him?” Martin turns to Jon.  
“Is it alright if I tell them?” He whispers. Jon nods.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Mhm,” Jon verifies. He leans back and sits up, reaching out for Martin.  
“Dada, cuddle,” he mumbles. Martin smiles, turning his body towards him. Jon climbs into his lap and curls up against his chest.  
Martin looks back at Tim, who is smiling, and Sasha, whose eyes are shining at the cute interaction.  
“The way Jon first explained it to me was that he didn’t grow up with two parents, he was raised by his grandmother, so he didn’t get the same type of affection that he would’ve if he’d had both his parents. Of course his grandmother still took care of him well, though. But he just likes using age regression as a way of going back and getting the parental love that he didn’t get to experience much of as a kid,” Martin explained, “As for me, I’d rather not talk about my own reasons,” he continued, a bit nervously.  
“That’s alright,” Tim insists. 

They sit in silence for a moment; Sasha gazes at Jon, who is calmly resting against Martin. Tim stands up, and paces around the desk, going to lean against the front of it next to Sasha.  
“So, technically, we haven’t met little Jon yet,” Tim points out.  
“Oh! Yeah, you can come say hi,” Martin replies, chuckling, “Actually, I brought a toy with, it should be on the desk if you want to give it to him.” Sasha finds it, then walks over to Jon excitedly, sitting down next to Martin so she can face him. Tim follows, kneeling on the floor next to Sasha.  
“Here you are, little one,” Sasha says quietly, handing the toy to Jon. He takes it, holding it next to his face.  
“Sasha,” Jon lisps around his pacifier, weakly gesturing towards her. He looks up at Martin for reassurance, who nods and smiles.  
“Cute cow stuffie,” Tim compliments.  
“T-tank you,” Jon stutters, squeezing it and smiling shyly. Tim almost seems taken aback, and chuckles.  
“Nice to see you smiling for once, kiddo.” Jon smiles harder and hides his face in Martin’s chest. He rattles his toy softly.

Jon yawns, relaxing into Martin’s body. He pulls his blanket over his face.  
“Is it nap time already?” Martin wonders. Tim pulls out his phone from his back pocket.  
“1:27,” He reads.  
“I guess it is,” Martin says, gazing down at Jon, “Let’s get back to archive storage, sweetie.” Jon whined, but cooperates nonetheless, crawling off of Martin and standing next to the couch.  
“Thank you guys so much for understanding,” Martin says to Tim and Sasha as he stands up.  
“No problem. If you ever need someone to watch over him for a bit, I’d be glad to help,” Sasha smiles.  
“Same here; I’m probably gonna need some guidance though,” Tim admits.  
“I’d love to teach you!” Martin declares. Jon hugs his stuffie and his toy close, watching as they talk. His eyes practically sparkle when Sasha and Tim insist on helping; he waddles up to Sasha first, softly nuzzling her arm until she gives him a gentle hug. He approaches Tim next, who gives him a surprisingly tight squeeze, followed by a few head pats. Then Jon returns to his Daddy, who wraps an arm around his shoulders.  
“Have a nice nap, sweetheart!” Sasha says, giving a small wave as Martin guides Jon out from the office. Jon looks over his shoulder and waves back, smiling softly at both her and Tim.


End file.
